Yellow Violets
by Coupar
Summary: I'm back, and this is going to be getting a hefty REDO. :
1. Chapter 1

Okay…so…. It has been a while since I've posted anything on FanFiction. I deleted everything I wrote a while ago since it was utter crud. After watching jumper this evening/morning I decided to make a fanfic. At this point I truly have no idea where it's going to go, you know, plot-wise.

I'm not one of those extremely obnoxious people that get angry when they get a bad review. You can go ahead and comment on my bad grammar and yell at me if you find any inconsistencies because in my opinion negative feedback is more helpful than positive feedback, but whatever.

oooooooooooooooooooo

**Chapter One: Prologue**

I know I'm not alone here. But seeking out others….it's pretty difficult. They could be anywhere. It's not like with other people. Normal people are somewhat stationary, they can't get far. Even driving, or in a plane. They all follow a certain path and it's easy to follow. Jumpers, though, they're pretty tricky. Their movements are erratic and nearly impossible to follow, hence my problem.

My name? It's Violet Dieter. I am a jumper.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

That was short. But I'm just testing the waters here. So, if anyone actually is reading this: Have patience. I plan on adding so much more later. And by 'later', I mean tomorrow…or today…depending on which way you look at it.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry. I know I said I would write the next chapter a day after I posted the first...but I didn't. That's just me, I'm a procrastinator. Besides, I decided to actually write a plot. I'll have to change to the summary, but the prologue can stay the same.

Also, spellcheck is being a jerk. So if you see a mistake just deal with it.

**Chapter Two! (YAY)**

I couldn't feel anything as I walked through the doors of the church. No remorse. No guilt. No sorrow. Nothing. My legs even, felt absent under the weight of the giant block of ice incasing my brain.

Unconsciously, I knew the consequences of feeling right now. The disconnection between brain and body is preferable to the pain of dealing with death.

So I did my best to stay numb.

It was a lot harder than it looked, though. The floodgates, previously frozen waters, had melted sometime during the middle of the funeral, when _her_ friends were telling stories about her.

Just the raw emotion that leaked out of these people made it difficult to stay unfeeling. Their voices, saturated with sadness and remorse, almost made the iceblock crack.

Almost.

There was an unspoken expectation floating around. Call me paranoid, but I think some of the people at the funeral wanted me to cry, and sob, more than anyone else. I had known her like no one else had, on a different, more direct level. If there should be anyone crying, it should be me.

I knew that.

But I wasn't read to face the truth yet.

No, that moment came long after the beginning of the funneral. In fact, it came just as they began lowering her coffin to the ground. The ice melted into a boiling river. The sobs began.

I was not ready to let go of my mother.

And as the realization really began to hit, that I would never get to see her, I started to sob harder.

The urge to jump onto her coffin and beg her to come back became overwhelming. But my aunt's hand clamped down on my shoulder.

Then she really was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I've been having trouble finishing more than what looks like a page of writing. Some authors make writing good, bulky chapters look so easy. I'll try and write more.

Yeah, and please yell at me if you see my character turning into a Mary Sue. I know the whole mom-dying thing is a little overused, but I'm guessing most jumper's have angsty pasts, so it is important.

**LeisaHawke09**: These aren't flashbacks, and Violet is fifteen years old. I'll get a description of her in this chapter...hopefully.

**Keshi**: Thanks, and you'll see. ;)

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jumper. **

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My aunt led me away from the crowd of people as soon as the pastor stopped speaking, probably thinking I wouldn't want an audience. Quite fankly, though, I didn't care. I was concentrating more on trying to breathe throught the flurry of uncontrollable sobs than worrying about what they thought of me.

The sobs quieted down as she gently helped me into the back of her car, but they quickly escalated as I saw one more glance of the cemetary.

My chest kept heaving. Tears pouring down my face. I bent over and cried into my black skirt. Michelle (A/N: her cousin) patted my back and tried to tell me that everything would be okay. As a seven-year old she was doing remarkably well in trying to comfort me, but I shoved her away. I didn't want to be touched.

"Michelle, sit up front and let Violet be." Ordered Aunt Beth from the front of the car. Michelle climbed over the small storage compartment in the front of the car, and sat in the passenger seat. It was silent for the rest of the car ride.

We stopped at Aunt Beth's house. She took my to my room. My things had been transported here a day before the funeral.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" She asked me in a quietly.. I shook my head quickly."Okay, I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." She stood up, and walked out of the room. I flung myself onto the bed as soon as I heard the door click shut.

* * *

I woke up with my face pasted to my green and orange bedspread. The clock said eleven-fifty-two P.M. I felt horrible, as if I had swallowed a brick and it had gotten stuck on the way down. My mouth felt cottony and dry. I didn't feel tired enough to ignore my thirst, so I got up and went to the kitchen. The lights were off all over my aunt's five bedroom, two and-a-half bathroom, house. I tried to be as quiet as possible as I pulled a glass cup from the cabinet and filled it with water from the metalic refrigerator's door. Ice was out of the question. I swallowed the water quickly, and served myself another cup.

After quenching my thirst I decided to brush my teeth. A film of saliva had dried over my front teeth and I was eager to get it off. Slowly, I crept into the bathroom closest to my room and entered. I groped the wall in the dark, and flicked the light switch as soon as I found it. The lighbulbs lit up, illuminating my face.

I looked terrible.

My short, light brown hair stuck out in different directions. Chunks of it were stuck together in tangles. Deep redish lines covered the side of my face that I had slept on, and dry tear tracks ran down the space under my eyes. I let out a gasp as I noticed another anomaly. Leaning in I tried to make sense of the bloody splotches in the white of one of my eyes. Broken blood vessels, that I pressume I had gotten from sobbing so hard. There wasn't any facial cleanser in this bathroom. I settled on hand soap and washed my face, making sure not to get any in my eyes. I dried my face with one of the beige hand towels Beth had left in the bathroom. Then I grabbed a brush from under the sink and yanked it through my hair. I ignored the sharp pains from my scalp, and continued pulling it through my hair. Brushing my teeth was the last thing I did before leaving the bathroom.

I knew Aunt Beth would be worried as soon as she saw my eye, hopefully she wouldn't insist on taking me to a doctor.

I peeled myself out of the black blouse and skirt I had worn to the funeral, and put on a clean pair of green pajama pants and an old shirt.

Sleep didn't come quickly. I lied awake for a half an hour, mulling over everything that had happened today. There were no more tear, because I'd already cried myself out.

* * *

_Something was wrong. And uncomfortable sensation ran down my spine, and goosebumps raised themselves on my arms. _

"_Mom?" I called from the bottom of the stairs. Her black car was in the drive way, and I knew she was here. But she didn't answer me. "Hey...Mom?" I called, louder this time. No answer._

_I tried to calm myself down by telling myself she could be in the bathroom. Why was I worried?I ran up the stairs and into my mother's room. _

"_Mom?" I hesitated at her bedroom door. There was a clicking noise coming from her room. Relief flooded my system. My hands grabbed at the doorknob, and I let myself into her room._

_There she was. Sitting at the computer, her back turned to me. Large, black headphones wrapped around the top of her head. I giggled at myself for being so paranoid. _

_I walked quietly behing her, and wrapped my arms around her neck in a hug. She jumped, slighlty, and then patted my hands. I let go so she could take of her earphones._

"_I didn't hear you come home." She said while pulling off the headphones. She turned to me. Her blue-green eyes twinkling, a smile on her lips._

"_Yeah"..._

* * *

The dream ended when Michelle woke me up for breakfast. I told her I'd be there in a minute. As soon as she left my room I started crying again. Seeing my mother's face in the dream brought more pain to my chest. I tried to stifle the sobs and pull myself together.

"She's crying again." I heard Michelle announce.

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A/N: Next chapter I'll introduce Violet as a jumper.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Yeah, I've been putting this story off for a while. But I just got a review, and that reminded me of its existence. My homework is calling my name from downstairs. I'll ignore the calls, being a procrastinator, and write another chapter for this.

So...as I promised: Violet is going to jump in this chapter. :)

**DISCLAIMER**: **I dun own Jumper. **

**Chapter Three:**

The day's following my mom's funeral were difficult. I was having trouble coping with her absence. My aunt wasn't having a dandy time either. Her sister just died. Doesn't sound like much fun, huh?

We were doing alright though. I quit crying myself to sleep about a week after the funeral. And I stopped crying altogether about a month later. But I still didn't feel happy. I had absolutely no ambition for school, or the extracurricular activities I had been attending since September. They, my teachers and club members, understood, I think. For the most part I wasn't berated for skipping a couple days of school, or choosing not to do my homework. No one confronted me for ignoring my duties as a member if the lacrosse team.

Everyone was, however, doing their best to show they cared and understood what I was going through. I received countless letters and cards in the mail, each attempting to display remorse and comfort for my situation. They were amusing, in a sense, because most of the attempts were awkward and not well thought out. How do you tell someone, without seeming wooden or annoying, how sorry you are that they lost their mother? It won't go well.

Trust me.

I did acknowledge the fact that these people were showing how much they cared for me. That thought made the cards almost touching.

The teachers were a different story.

Most of them pulled me out in the middle of their class, when everyone was working, and told me something along the lines of:

"Violet, I'm sorry. I'm here if you want to talk about anything. Anything at all."

Right. I don't think so.

"Yes, Mr/Mrs./Ms._. I'll certainly consider the offer. But right now I just need some time to myself."

"Of course, Violet. Remember, anything you need. "

My school counselor did something similar, except, she actually tried to do some sort of psychoanalysis. It was sad.

Really.

It was.

She even pulled out inkblots, probably something she pulled out of a movie. Real therapists don't do that.

After that I was left alone, for the most part. The principal gave me some trouble after he found out how much I'd been skipping. I forget exactly what he said, but it was a thinly vieled threat at lost of credit.

I didn't take him seriously.

My teachers began expressing concern when my grades took a deep plunge.

I didn't take them seriously either.

Friday night, a tad bit more than one month after the funeral, my aunt cornered me. She ordered Michelle out of the room. After a bit of protest (_"Why I want to hear!" _The brat.) she finally left. I had an inkling of what was about to happen. It was long due.

"Violet," She began. It wasn't a question, asking me whether or not I was acknowledging her. But I answered anway.

"Yep?" There. Short, almost curt. I knew what was gonna go down.

"I got a call from your principal. He says you've been skipping class and that your grades have been dropping lower and lower." Aunt Beth waited, awkwardly, for me to reply. After a few seconds of me not replying, she added, "Is this true."

"Yeah."

"Why? Why would you do that? You used to be such a great student. Don't be like this, Violet!"

I started feeling angry. Where did she go off thinking she had the right to treat me like this. Just because she was my legal guardian didn't mean she was my mom. Heck if I was going to let her act like it.

"My mom is dead. You think it's easy for me to deal with that?" I said, my tone increasing in volume.

"God, Violet. She was my sister! Don't you dare act as if you're the only one who cared about her. We're all hurting. But we all learned how to get on with life. You need to, too. If you don't I'm going to do send you to a psychologist. Is that what you need? "

"I won't go. You can't make me."

"Legally, I can, Violet." I hated her right then. This was so unfair!

"Just because she's dead doesn't mean you're my mom." I shouted, running up the stairs. I made sure to slam the door, like a five year old.

I missed her, my mom. A lot.

(Dream)

_ There was blood. On the walls. On the carpet. There was a puddle of blood. Someone was lying in it. I knew who._

_ She wasn't moving._

_ I called out to her. _

_ Again._

_ Again._

_ I was shaking her now._

_ Her limp body flopped around. Dead. _

_ "MOM!" I shrieked. _

_I tried to find where the blood was coming from. A hole in her chest. _

_ I covered it with my hands, putting pressure on it. _

_ Too late. _

__

Wind began rushing across my face. I started shaking. 

I let out a scream as I woke up from the dream. My body collided painfully with... the floor? I must have fallen of my bed. It was dark. I tried to stand up. I found difficulty with that, being tangled in my bed clothes and all.

My hands shook as I untangled myself from my blanket. I stood up.

Then tripped over something made of stone. I groaned as my knee hit the ground painfully. Then I limped to the wall, and tried looking for the lightswitch. I still wasn't accustomed to my Aunt's out.

"Stupid light." Grumbled.

I finally found it and flicked it on.

The sight before me was slightly confusing. Okay, scratch that. Extremely confusing.

Where was I?

**A/N: **How was that? Review please. PLEASE.

I swear I'll write more if you do. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Man, thanks MrsShelleyWinchester, you're really keeping me motivated. :D

Alright, I noticed a lot of typos in my last chapter. I'm missing some question marks, and I have a few comma splices, oh, and somewhere towards the end "out" needs to be replaced with 'house', so it says 'aunt's house' and not 'aunt's out'.

Anyway, I'm not gonna and change that, 'cuz I don't feel like it.

Here's chapter four:

**DISCLAIMER: Jumper, I do not own. **

**Chapter Four: **

I gaped, mouth wide open, at the mess in front of me...

A massive crater was located right under my feet, and by massive, I mean fifteen foot diameter. It was smack dab in the middle of what looked like a living room. What used to be a coffee table, was lying like a pathetic plank of wood, against the far wall. The windows looked as if they had been blasted in by an explosion. There was glass and broken debris everywhere.

Then I started to realize where I was.

I tried to slap myself in the face in an attempt to wake up from what I suspected to be a dream.

It didn't work.

So, huh, I really was in my former mother's house, standing in my former mother's living room, which looked as if a tornado had gone through it.

Ah,

What the heck?

I crouched down, trying to avoid falling into the broken glass, and buried my face in my hands.

"Okay, so..." I muttered. I've found that talking to myself always helps me make sense of a situation much better than simply thinking inside of my head. "I went to sleep in my bed, then I woke up here... wait—I had a nightmare..." Were the nightmare and me ending up here connected? "and then I ended up here." I let out a groan when I noticed that this wasn't helping. I was just as confused as when I first woke up here.

Gah.

I stood up after another moment and walked, carefully, to the kitchen, in search of a phone. I tried not to look at most of the things in the house because I didn't know how I would react to seeing a picture of my mother, her handwriting, heck, even her used coffee cup. After having a few metal breakdowns, I wasn't interested in having another.

When I found the phone it was sitting in it's holder on top of the kitchen counter. Just like always. I picked it up before I could start getting anymore sentimental. There was no dial tone.

Just my luck, right?

I let out a deep sigh as I remembered that the phone line had been cut. My mom couldn't pay for it, being dead and all, so the phone companies simply disconected our phone lines.

Wonderful.

My Aunt lived two cities away. My cell phone was probably by my bed, in her house, so I couldn't call anyone using it either. Oh, and I was fairly positive that it was somewhere between twelve and two in the morning. If I knocked on the neighbors door someone was going to call the police.

So, great.

In the morning my aunt will find my bed empty...and she'll probably call the police, too. Then, when they do find me they'll think I trashed my mom's house.

I was totally screwed.

**A/N: **Short, and I'm not proud of it. Y'all should tell me what you guys think.

I promise to write another chapter if you review...


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Sorry for the late update. I've been busy.

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jumper. **

**Yellow Violets: Chapter 6**

"So, Violet, do you know why you're here?" He looked at me in a way that made me feel like I was being dissected. I shifted uncomfortably in the stiff, flower-print chair that I had chosen to sit in. I avoided looking into his narrowed, brown eyes, and concentrated on the corner of his mouth. Crumbs, of some sort, leftover from lunch, I imagine, still clung to the side of his lips. "Violet?"

"Uh, my aunt thinks I'm insane." I answered. My hands laced themselves together, in attempt at self-comfort. How long are these sessions suppose to last?

"And, why would she think that?"

"Because I she thinks I trashed my mom's house." A hint of impatience and exasperation could be heard in my voice. I'm sure he didn't miss it.

"Did you?"

"I don't know, because I don't remember." He stood up, and walked over to his polished wood desk. A couple stacks of paperwork sat atop it, alone with a computer, a name tag, and a cup full of writing pens. He reached for a folder, my folder.

As he flipped the folder open and nodded silently at something he had read. "It says here that you claim you woke up at your _deceased _mother's house and it had already been 'trashed'" I cringe when he said my mother was deceased, he caught that.

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"But you just told me you didn't remember."

" I was asleep, I don't remember."

"So you do remember?"

"What?"

I was beginning to feel irritated.

"Look, Dr...-"

"-Abram"

"Dr. Abram, sorry, but I don't think this is working." Please, please, let me leave. I stood up, and hesitated as I thought about how much trouble I'd be in if I walked out.

"Sit down. You can leave once you finish explaining what happened that night." He had his eyes trained on my again, trying to decode my body language.

"I already explained it!"

"Not to me you didn't. Start from the beginning." I gave up with a sigh and began relaying the story.

"And, then I didn't know what to do. So, I just waited. My aunt came with the police at about six in the morning. Apparently, she'd gone to check on me and hadn't been able to find me. It didn't take them long to find me. But Aunt Beth was really angry. . She yelled at me the enitire time. 'I was so worried!', 'Why would you do this?', 'Your mom's house, violet!'. It took her a while to calm down, but it only made her angrier when I told her my story... "

"How did that make you feel?" He asked me, while chewing on the tip of his pen.

"Angry, sad...I don't know."

"Continue"

"That's it. After that she signed me up for therapy, and that's how I got here. Can I leave now?" I asked, thinking I wouldn't be able to sit for another minute in his office.

"Yes. Your next appointment is next Tuesday, same time." He waved me out the door, not bothering to stand up himself. I grateful sped out the door, and into my aunt's waiting car. She didn't ask me anything as we drove to her house.

She was still mad at me.

**A/N: **Review, please.

The next chapter will be centered more around her learning how to Jump.


	7. AUTHOR NOTE

Author's Note:

Oh, hey there. I'm just putting up a note to tell all of you that I am going to continue this story AFTER I redo it. Yay.

Also, I've just finished a year of Advanced Grammar, so YAY for grammar.

Yeah, that's it.


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